Forever Changing
by Abbyreads
Summary: After a devastating breakup and nearly two years in Japan, things are looking up for Michael. He's back in New York, he has resolved to win Mia back, and his invention is saving lives and netting him a fortune. Now, he just needs to cope with all the changes he is making in his life. The tenth book in the Princess Diaries series told from Michael Moscovitz's Point of View.
1. Chapter 1

Stepping off the plane, I paused a moment to organize my thoughts. I don't know why I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. In the 13 hours it took to fly from Tokyo to New York, I had had more than enough time to anticipate my homecoming and all that it entailed. I had thought of my parents, of Lilly, of Pavlov, of Maya, of my band. I remembered the ferocity of the city I proudly knew as my hometown. I had closed my eyes and imagined the number of steps it took to get from the sidewalk to my parents' apartment. I remembered the nights I laid awake staring at the constellations over my bed, and the plans I had made while lying there. Those plans all revolved around another unforgettable aspect of my life.

Mia. To just call her an aspect of my life doesn't even come close to fully accurate. After all, she was the reason I had just spent nearly two years on the other side of the world. She was the reason medical technology had just taken a sudden leap forward. She was the reason why the new startup I created was pulling in more returns than I would have imagined. Mia was my inspiration, my muse, and my love.

I pulled myself out of my daze for long enough to haul my luggage off the baggage claim and to join the long, snaking line for customs. Realizing that it might take an hour just to get through, I slipped back into my reverie.

My last memory of Mia was downright painful. There had been so many arguments about trivial matters in those last days. I couldn't absolve myself of blame in the matter. After all, Mia and I had broached the topic of sex, but I hadn't mentioned anything about Judith. She overreacted, sure, but with the way society sensationalizes and sexualizes everything, it's not too hard to understand a teenage girl reacting that way. Of course, Mia isn't just any teenage girl. I'd expect her to be above all of that because, well, she is! Even without her royal status, she just is a better person than most teenage girls.

When Mia and I separated that night, I didn't think anything of it. I picked up the necklace I had given her, figuring that we would come to an agreement soon and that she would find a way to be sent on a Genovian diplomatic mission to Japan, at which point I would give it back to her and we would be able to be happy together again. But before I knew it, Mia was going out with Lilly's boyfriend.

I was hurt emotionally, but I was also furious. A number of words I generally avoid ran through my mind, directed at both of them. I was thankful long-distance phone calls were costly because it kept me from unloading my anger to them directly. I'm not too proud to admit that I wrote a virus which I considered sending in an email attachment, knowing that Mia would trustingly open it. I ran through a scenario in my head time after time in which I flew back to New York, beat the living daylights out of J.P., and got into a shouting match with Mia, which sometimes ended up with us getting back together and sometimes ended up with me finally being able to cut her out of my life. More often than not, it was the former. At some point, I began to notice how hard it was to continually hate Mia—I couldn't deny the fact that I was still in love with her.

This left me with a bit of a quandary. After all, she had a boyfriend. Common wisdom suggests that if you love something you need to let it go, and that if the person you love loves someone else, the true expression of your feelings is taking pleasure in their happiness. I wasn't really content to believe this, but I was able to distract myself in my work well enough while accepting this to be true.

Ironically, the impetus that derailed this train of thought was , the infernal creation of my sister. When I saw the site, I couldn't help but be disgusted. I decided it was worth splurging on an international call to force Lilly to take the website down.

I picked a time when I knew our parents would be working and that I knew she wouldn't be taping. Just as I planned, she answered and I didn't need to worry about getting distracted by my parents.

"Hello." She said, drawing out the first syllable to be intentionally rude or annoying. I love my sister, but I'm pretty sure if we weren't related, I wouldn't be able to stand her.

"Lilly." I responded, hoping she would recognize my voice and give me a chance to talk. It was a hollow dream, as she decided to use the opportunity to fill me in about her life.

"Michael!" She exclaimed, speaking quickly, "You never call us. Mom and dad aren't too happy about that. You should hear some of the interpretations they have about you and your life in Japan. Anyways, Korea. Did I ever tell you that people from AEHS know you're in Japan and they keep trying to equate Japan and Korea! Which is so terribly wrong and racist and I want to make that the next episode of Lilly Tells it Like it is, except now that I'm broadcasting in Korea, it seems like a topic they wouldn't be as interested in. I won't cave in to corporate greed, of course, but I need to respect my viewership! Not that you ever cared about my show. You're probably more interested in the goings-on of New York's very own royal, right? Well, you'd be happy to hear that—"

I cut her off. "That's what I'm calling about, Lilly. You need to take down that site." I took a deep breath. I expected her to jump in when I paused, but she wasn't saying anything. "Look," I continued, "I know you're probably still bitter about the J.P. thing or whatever—"

At this point, she cut me off. "Bitter over the J.P. thing? Come on, Michael. It ought to be abundantly clear," I groaned when she said this, but her tone of superiority continued, "that he is using her". This piqued my interest. Lilly realized she was telling me something that wasn't abundantly clear to me. "Oh yes! He just wants to be a famous playwright. Heck, he flat out told me so when he broke up with me. I thought it was the dumbest thing ever that he told me. I mean, she was my best friend; there was no way she wasn't going to find out. But then she jumped into his arms so fast, I knew she wasn't worth helping. I mean, sure, I was mad at first. But now, I'm just savoring all my hatred. The website is sweet, but knowing that she's just being used is delicious."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. My sister's feelings were so unashamedly vile for the girl who was essentially her sister. And, more than that—Mia was just being played by her boyfriend. I didn't need to wallow in my research and consent to her happiness from another. I strengthened my resolve at my work and, to put it simply, stayed in love with her. I was going to get her back. Mia's a smart girl, eventually she would see through the jerk that was using her, and I would be there, a suitable suitor and (hopefully) still the love of her life.

It was hard to do much from so far away. I couldn't tell her about her boyfriend's lack of fealty. I just had to be there for her. We emailed back and forth and I always tried to continue the conversation. She'd try to shut me down sometimes. Recently, she had been adamantly trying to avoid sending me her senior project, an appraisal of the olive oil industry in Genovia. No matter how dry she said it was, I was more than happy to go through it and find interesting bits to talk about, just so we would be talking. No matter what, at the end of my emails, I included a bit for myself that made me smile. I always signed off with "Love". It started as an accident in the first email I sent her from Japan, back when I still was going to force myself to sit by because she could be happy with another person. Now, I included it as a sign to myself that I would forge on and wait for Mia to come to her senses—and to come to me.

My thoughts were interrupted when my business cell phone rang. "Mr. Moscovitz?" I affirmed that it was me. "This is Jerry, I was sent by some of your new investors to pick you up. I see that your flight landed, I just want to make sure that you know my limo is waiting right outside".

"Thanks Jerry," I said, "but I was in Japan for quite a while and the line for customs is pretty long. I might have another hour left."

"You—you know you can bypass that, right, sir? I spoke to one of your investors, and from what they said, you should be able to afford front of the line service no problem."

I hadn't realized that, but it had to be true. I had flown back to the United States in First Class, feeling on top of the world, but had been told by one of the faceless investors I can barely remember that I really should be chartering my own private jet! I guess that while I had imagined that I would do something great that would get me famous enough to wed a princess and enjoy ostentatious luxury, I hadn't realized that one of the side benefits of that was a multi-million dollar company, allowing me to enjoy those luxuries on my own. At least now I might be able to compete on the gift level.

"Right." I responded. "I'll—I'll see you in a few minutes."

I didn't need to worry about what I would need to do to proclaim my stature and get fast access, because it ended up that my prediction of an hour was grossly overstated. Within five minutes, I was strolling up and a middle-aged woman was stamping my passport.

"Welcome back to the United States!" She offered as I walked away, trying to strike the happiest tone someone who repeated this phrase thousands of times a day could. I shot her a smile as I strode into the lobby and then out of the airport. A lot had changed since I had left New York; there were things in my life I would have to come to terms with. But there was at least one thing that I was going to change back. My resolve was strong. Mia would be with me again.


	2. Chapter 2

My home was as comforting as I expected it to be; my memories and feelings were a mixed bag. There is something to be said about the little pleasures of remembering small details of commonplace items you haven't seen in a very long time. That was a humbling and warming feeling. Stepping into the apartment in which I grew up brought back a wave of emotions.

In the foyer, the first thing that caught my eye was the barely perceptible scratch on the faux-wood flooring that was Pavlov's first action the day we brought him home. I stepped into our kitchen. I saw new, porcelain pans lining the wall above our stove, as well as a new working clock; the previous occupant of that spot hadn't ticked for as long as I can remember. My family definitely has its quirks. Still, on the doorframe, there were little pencil markings that probably occupied millions of doorframes—marking mine and Lilly's height through the years.

My hand grazed the doorframe as I walked by and down the hall towards my bedroom. With an air of nervous excitement, I threw open my door. It was cleaner than in my memories. The books were lined up nicely; the posters and pictures on my walls were all straight. The calendar hadn't been changed since I left.

The photographs hadn't been either. I walked over to my desk. It was devoid of any of my usual clutter, all it retained were a large spiral notebook that never had a place on my shelves and two framed pictures. One was my entire extended family from my last trip to visit my grandparents. The other was a candid snap of Mia and me at my prom. I don't know who took the picture, but when I saw it, I knew I needed a copy. The photo conveyed her beauty so well that just looking at it made me nearly as happy as I had been when the picture was taken. The picture probably ought to have been taken down when we broke up. However, at the time, I didn't realize we had broken up. By the time I did, I was already away in Japan.

Although seeing the happiness we had would've hurt me then, and might've even hurt me a few months ago, now that I was back in New York, I was okay leaving it up. It sounds terribly cliché, but building the CardioArm showed me that even very difficult things are achievable, and if you really want the result, hard work can help you attain it. It all relates, however. The CardioArm is merely a means to my end. The end I am working towards is not so clearly defined. All I want is happiness, I guess. But I'm quite sure that happiness, or rather the only way I could be happy, is with Mia.

I turned away from my desk. My bed, covered in a dark blue comforter, was stiffly made. I thought for a moment that Maya must've come early today. It was only 2 in the afternoon, after all, and my parents and Lilly wouldn't be home for hours. Then I realized that my bed had probably sat this way for months. And, as it was a special day, what with my homecoming, I would be seeing at least my mom and dad very soon. They knew I would be home at two o'clock and planned to be home to greet me, but they were so rarely on time that I didn't think anything of their tardiness. Their patients, they repeated to us time after time when we were younger, didn't exactly operate on the same schedule as neurotypical people.

I walked out of my bedroom to make sure I stayed awake until they got home. I was panicked for a moment when I realized that I hadn't grabbed any of my luggage, but in a few worried steps to the door I found that Jerry had brought them all up for me when he dropped me off. I inwardly thanked him for making up for my absentmindedness. I pulled my laptop out of my carry-on and headed over to the kitchen table. There, I figured, the chairs would be hard enough to keep me awake. Although in high school I would have first gone to Instant Messenger, now I pulled up my email. I saw one from the head of Public Relations for Pavlov Surgical labeled urgent, so I clicked it right away. It read,

Mr. Moscovitz,

We have prepared a press release about the presentation of your device to the Columbia University Medical Center. The news media will not use it directly but will pull information from it for their articles. If possible, could you provide an anecdote from your time at Columbia to supplement the release? We would like this to go out as soon as possible.

Sincerely,

Debra Hetsch

Head of Public Relations, Pavlov Surgical

I scrolled to the top of the page—it had been sent less than an hour ago. I opened up the attachment, trying to come up with a suitable story. My time with Doo Pak had been fine, but nothing seemed too exciting, or at the very least, very newsworthy. I had dated a princess, but one who liked her privacy. I also enjoyed privacy—there wasn't much I was willing to give away.

Though I struggled trying to come up with something for a minute, I eventually realized that I was in charge—I didn't need to provide Debra with a story. I skimmed her press release to make sure it would still be substantial without an extra story and something caught my eye. I emailed back,

Debra,

No anecdote, but I do have a quick correction. I'm back in the US, so I'm 'Michael Moscovitz of Manhattan', not '…of Tsukuba, Japan'.

Thank you,

Michael Moscovitz

I considered adding CEO after my name, but found it unnecessary. She knew who I was, and frankly, I didn't care much about the title. I had formed a company because it was in my best interest to when my product was approved by the FDA. It had only taken off in the past six months. My biggest concern with my email was that I sounded too cold in shutting down the story aspect and throwing in a snide correction.

My thoughts were interrupted by my parents' arrival home.

"Michael!" my mother shouted. I couldn't help but smile.

I stood up as they joined me in the kitchen. I was pulled into a deep hug by first my dad and then my mom. All I got out was, "Hey."

I could see the pride in my parents' eyes. We sat down and talked about everything that ran through our heads. My parents filled me in about the mundane details of their life, and I shared mine. At one point, I got into a very technical description of the CardioArm. I assumed they followed; my dad kept nodding, but at the end of my explanation, he just laughed and said, "You know Michael, it's a good thing you've got that all figured out." The way my mom laughed with him, I guess I was being a bit too scientific. I would have to be sure to tone that down for my speech at Columbia.

We weren't about to run out of topics for conversation very soon. We were talking for nearly two hours when the front door flew open and Lilly entered. She and I might have some animosity towards each other at times, but I had missed my little sister. I stood up just in time for her to nearly knock me over in a bear hug.

"Whoa, Lil!" I said gruffly, trying not to be negative towards her but still keep her from knocking the wind out of me. I looked at my little sister. A three year age gap doesn't seem too significant, but it did mean that whether she knew it or wanted it, I saw myself as a protector for her. She looked quite a bit different than she had when I had left. Though she loved her boycotts, it seemed she had no grievances with the companies that made hair dye or sold piercings, because she was covered in both.

She took my comment to be directed, not towards her rough embrace, but towards her changes in appearance. "Michael, I'm glad you're back and all, but I will have you know that I am not willing to tolerate anyone's imposition of societal norms of appearance. In fact, my significant other, Kenneth, fully enjoys my rejection of society, not that it matters at all. My appearance does not serve anyone else and is not for anyone except myself, and…" Now I cut her off with a tight hug.

"Not what I meant, Lilly. Glad to see you too." She shirked away, but I called her back. "C'mon, tell me about your life. Let's be a family, alright?" I saw my parents exchange a teary glance.

We spent nearly another hour talking before we paused to answer the door. No one moved immediately, so I headed towards the door. My grandparents greeted me joyfully.

"Nana!" I exclaimed. I was definitely not immune from the happiness of close family bonds. "Opa, how are you two?" He responded with a firm handshake.

"Michael, your homecoming is a special occasion." Nana said. "So I brought," she pulled out a package that I hadn't immediately noticed, "chicken dumpling soup!" I had wondered why Maya hadn't stopped by with dinner. Now I knew and I couldn't be happier. While my parents were fine respecting culture but not limiting food consumption to certain occasions, my grandparents were quite adamant about having traditional special occasion meals on special occasions only. I grinned as I helped her set up the table, knowing that this would be a nice, worry free evening.

Eventually, however, it came it an end. The last drop of soup had been slurped some time earlier and it was late enough that my Nana and Opa decided to head back to their hotel.

"Well," I said, a bit nervous, "I should be heading home too, then."

My parents looked confused. "Uh, what do you mean, son?" My dad asked, just as much nervousness in his voice as there had been in mine.

I should have told them earlier. Nevertheless, now I just had to bite the bullet and explain, "I got a place. It was all checked out by a friend of mine, then I hired someone to double check, and then I hired someone to buy me furniture and get it looking decent. I told them I'd be in sometime tonight; I already have the keys and everything." They were taken aback. I continued, "I told you I wasn't going to impose! It's not far away anyways, I probably could walk there if I didn't have all my stuff and if it was a bit earlier. Now, um, I've got to make a phone call, give me a second." I stepped away, allowing my news to sink in.

I pulled out my phone and called a cab. When I came back to my family, they spent as much time being sad over my seemingly sudden departure as I had expected. I said goodbye to them as lovingly as I could, assuring them that it wouldn't be much different from my first semester at college, except that now, I would be even closer to them.

"And Saturday!" I said. "We'll spend so much time together on Saturday!"

Lilly got a look in her eyes that I didn't care for. "As a distinguished alumnus of AEHS, I should get someone in the Atom on that." I couldn't think of anything nefarious in that, so I just nodded and headed towards the door. By the time we were done saying goodbye, the cab was already at the curb.

It was, as I had expected, a short drive to my apartment. I was glad that I had expended the money to get everything set up before my return. The only thing needed was clothing in my closet, which I could easily get from my suitcase the next morning. I didn't spend much time looking around; I was exhausted. I got to my bed, covered in white blankets, not blue, and collapsed into it, falling asleep nearly immediately.

I slept for sixteen hours. It had been 10 pm on Thursday when I went to bed; I woke up at 2 pm on Friday. There wasn't much I had to get done today besides unpacking a bit and getting a suitable outfit for tomorrow's presentation. I was content to enjoy the fact that I was in my own apartment in the greatest city in the world, feeling well-rested—and feeling like I could do anything.


End file.
